


Slavegirl

by Not_You



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Animal Play, Brainwashing, Breast Fucking, Bruce Has Issues, Consensual Violence, Current D/s, Double Penetration, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Facials, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Natasha co-opts her brainwashing in ways that make her happy, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Rape Recovery, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Team Feels, Triple Penetration, spy feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working on this for a kinkmeme prompt for Natasha having been conditioned into having a sex slave mode.  The boys find out by accident and are horrified, but find themselves strangely interested when she regroups, gets over the embarrassment, and tells them that she actually enjoys subbing out that completely... with them.  Because she trusts them.  Exploration ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"Christ, you're sexy when you talk all foreign," Clint says, only half teasing. Natasha smirks, watching the boys flirt. She can tell what this team is headed for, and she doesn't mind a bit. They're taking their time, and she likes that, too._

_Tony laughs, and suddenly says… something, and Natasha is gone._

Tony has been showing off his polyglot talents, and deflects Clint's compliment with, "Down, girl!" in Latin. Clint catches the gist and laughs, and then suddenly he's got a lap full of Natasha. This has happened before, but not with an audience, and she's never been so pliant and cuddly. He blinks at her, and then lets out a soft moan before he can stop it as she runs the pointed tip of her tongue around the rim of his ear exactly the way he likes it, damn her.

"T-tasha!" Clint would hesitate to say that he squawks, but sometimes a little denial is all that keeps him going. Not that that will be a problem right now, with Natasha purring happily into his ear and sneaking one deadly little hand up his shirt, rolling the pad of her thumb over his nipple and making him squirm.

"Damn, I guess I am sexy when I talk all foreign-like. Should I leave you two alone?"

"No," Natasha says in a strange, sweet voice, and she finishes it up with a girlish giggle that makes the hair on the back of Clint's neck stand up. "Clint's my favorite, but you're pretty, too."

"Uh, thanks?" Tony cocks his head, starting to look concerned. "Jarvis, can you do a bioscan on Natasha?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tasha, you're acting weird."

"But I want to please you," she coos, sounding perplexed and naïve. It shouldn't be hot. Clint grits his teeth and tries to shift her off of his trapped cock. It backfires horribly when she just settles herself more firmly and _wiggles_. Clint does his best not to whimper.

"Agent Romanov is under the influence of no detectable drug, poison, or pathogen, sir, but her brain waves have altered from baseline."

"Shit. Compare to that time Clint said that one command word in his sleep?"

Clint still feels bad about that, but it had been a terrifying nightmare, and he has Natasha's permission to use what he has dubbed her 'Terminator word' when the going gets sufficiently horrible.

"It does show a similar degree of deviation, sir." Jarvis throws them up on hard light projection as Clint struggles to keep Natasha's hands out of his pants.

"'Down girl' in Latin activates the sexbot mode? That is fucked _up_."

"The guys who did this shit are dead," Clint says, wrestling with an increasingly distressed Natasha, "sometimes it's the only thing that lets me sleep at night."

"Cliiiinnnt," Natasha whines, "let me touch your cock! You know you like the way I do it."

"I'll bet he does," Tony murmurs, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Hey, Bruce? Yeah, I need enough sedative for however many pounds of assassin Natasha is. Really? Muscle's heavier than it looks, and she's got that _nice_ ass on her… You're right, this is an emergency, sorry."

"Stark," Clint growls, fending Natasha off as she pouts and starts to cry, making him feel like he's fallen down a rabbit hole or taken Morpheus's goddamn red pill, "you are such an asshole!"

"Look, I trust you. Now get up here with it before she rapes herself on Clint. Yes, I'll explain that later." He hangs up and goes to try and pull her off, only for her to turn in his arms and glom onto him like an octopus, sniffling into his shoulder about Clint being mean and not letting her make him feel good, practically humping his belly as she does. He can't help getting both hands on dat ass, halfway between instinct and legitimately trying to keep her from falling off (she probably doesn't need the help, but old habits die hard) but she's acting so unlike herself that he's only like, twenty percent turned on at most.

Mercifully, Bruce comes in just then. Natasha gets a look at him over Tony's shoulder and whimpers like a hungry puppy. Bruce's eyes go huge and green, but nothing else does and he scurries over and jabs her in the thigh. She lets out a high-pitched little cry, giving Bruce a faintly reproachful look, the very picture of the coy masochist. He swallows hard, and then helps Tony lower her to the floor when she becomes dead weight. "Jesus," he says, voice husky.

"Yeah," Clint agrees, and he doesn't sound much better.

Fortunately, SHIELD has a protocol for shit like this, and soon enough they're sitting in a meeting room with Fury, watching him pace. He finally stops, and glares at all of them (even Coulson, who he's been creepily nice to since his resurrection) and says, "Any one of you takes advantage of what I am about to tell you, know that his SHIELD clearance and genitals will be revoked."

"Yes, sir." Steve sounds grimmer than grim, and has only looked more and more miserable as the situation has been more fully explained.

"I'm honestly kind of appalled that you think you need to worry about that, Fury," Tony says, folding his arms over his chest.

"My shield-brother speaks truly. It is unseemly for a warrior to be enthralled, and only honorless dogs would make use of such a thing!" Thor is nearly as upset as Steve, who had been physically ill at the first situation report, and puts a comforting arm around each of the others. Tony pretends to ignore it but leans into him, and Steve doesn't bother to pretend, looking about six years old and full of deep upsettedness. Clint is hanging back and observing, and Bruce is taking deep, silent breaths. Coulson sighs, stretching his legs and then setting his feet back on the rests of his wheelchair. "Sir, you know how I feel."

Fury softens a little. "I do. I guess I trust you motherfuckers, but so help me…"

"We understand, sir," Steve says. "Thank you."

Natasha hangs around Medical for a few days, and Clint doesn't visit after crawling through some nearby vents and finding a red pen cap, one of her signals for wanting to be left alone. He figures she's embarrassed, and he can see why. But eventually she comes sauntering back in, full of the _I meant to do that, and did it perfectly_ of a cat that has just fallen off of something high.

"Hey, Romanov!" Tony calls, only a little more manic than usual. "Just fixing my first drink of the day, you want one?"

"Only your first? You usually don't wait for four pm."

"Just woke up. Wodka?"

"What are you having?"

"Scotch on the rocks."

"I like that well enough. Don't bother getting something else out."


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha seems completely normal. It's the rest of them walking on eggshells. Steve is striving manfully not to scoop her up and carry her away from everything bad in the universe, and Tony's usual sexual jokes suddenly drop off when she's around while Bruce avoids her altogether. Even Clint is having a hard time acting normal. Thor has gotten strangely formal, bound and determined that Natasha shall receive every single possible gesture of respect due a warrior, and Clint can see it wearing on her but really can't stop himself from being extra careful.

It wears on him, too, and he walks in Thor and Steve fooling around in the gym because he's up and wandering at five in the morning.

"It is normal to want some comfort when a fellow warrior has suffered dishonorably, Steve."

"Really? This just seems kinda… weird. But I just can't go back to bed alone." He sounds so miserable and ashamed that Clint winces, but he's too much a creature of SHIELD not to listen in.

"I see." And it sounds like Thor really does, warm and compassionate. "Let me help you, Captain." Clint finds a good vantage point and watches as Thor takes Steve into his arms . Steve whimpers and clings, trembling.

"Thor, Thor, I—"

"I have been meaning to speak with you about this, my friend. For you are very beautiful, and I love you well."

Steve whines sharply, and his eyes go impossibly wide and then flutter shut as Thor kisses him. He makes this sweet little mewling noise and just presses into it, shaking. Clint can see that Thor is a bit taken aback by this sudden and naked neediness, but he just rubs Steve's back and hushes him as he tries to apologize. "I did not think you would wish tenderness, but I am delighted to grant it."

"I don't deserve it," he sounds like he's on the verge of tears, clutching and clinging.

"Why would you think that?" Thor murmurs, gathering him even closer and rubbing his back. "Why, when you are so valorous and good?"

Clint's wondering about this himself, but he can't actually hear Steve's answer, because he whispers it into Thor's ear. Thor listens carefully, frowning in confusion. "Of course it did, Steve. You are no eunuch."

Ah, right. Of course Steve would feel bad at being turned on in any way that Natasha has a sex slave mode. Hell, Clint feels bad, he's just realistic about it. Steve starts to protest and Thor kisses him into silence as Clint creeps away.

At trying times in his life, Bruce turns to science, and so does Tony, so it's a given that they'll end up in the lab together, the small hours of the morning becoming bigger. "So," Tony says during a break, walking a screwdriver over his knuckles as he watches Bruce with knowing eyes.

"Yes?" Bruce growls. He's been angrier than ever lately, reminded of a few of the things he hates most about himself. The noise Natasha had made as the needle slid in has been haunting him.

"What's on your mind, Totally-Not-Jolly Green?"

"Same thing on everyone else's." And it's been quiet lately, so there really isn't much else to think about, god help them.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Which part made you feel like you were going to hell the most?"

"…I don't have to answer that."

"No, you don’t. Especially since I know."

"And what do you know?"

"That you like it rough, baby." His tone is mocking, and Bruce's greater control betrays him. He loves (he can admit this to himself) Tony too much to hurt him, and thus can be angry with him and not transform.

"You know what? Fuck you, Tony."

"Is that an offer?" Tony purrs, and then Bruce is on him, one hand knotted in his shirt to keep it from doing anything worse, the other yanking his hair brutally.

"I don't know, Tony, how do you want it?"

"Oh, fuck, _Bruce_ …" he breathes, just melting into it.

"Goddammit, you don't get it! I want to fucking hit you!"

"So hit me," Tony growls, licking his lips. "I won't break."

"…Jesus fuck, Tony."

"I'm serious, fucking hit me." Bruce swallows hard, and slaps Tony across the face. It's a fraction of his strength, and Tony moans longingly, leaning into it. "Harder, big guy. You know you want to." And god help him, he does. He does want to, and doesn't pull the next one nearly as much, a backhand that snaps Tony's head to the side.

"You like that, you motherfucker?" It's a deep, bestial growl, because he's still furious with Tony for making him admit it, for dragging him down into this.

"God, yes." Tony's eyes are big and dark, filled with awe. "I've got lube in here." He looks like he's on the verge of going into shock, but speaks calmly, patting the table with a shaking hand. "All compounds used on this one are safe for humans."

Bruce growls, yanking his hair again. "Condoms?"

"With the lube. Come on, big guy. You know what I want."

Bruce is afraid he really _does_ know what Tony wants, and shoves him down onto his back. "So help me, Tony…"

"Give in to your anger!"

Bruce laughs, and feels a little more sane. "Palpatine is not sexy."

"I know, thought it might help. Come on. I wanted to fuck your brain when I read your work, and as soon as I got a look at the rest of you I put it on the list too."

"You sure you want what you're going to get?"

"If I'm going to get pounded so hard I feel it for days and can count bruises when I'm whacking it, then yes, I'm fucking sure!"

Even with all the changes he has been through, Bruce is still only human. He makes a noise that's more of a roar than anything else and hits Tony again, making him moan and then pinning him down with one hand on his throat, because too much pressure on the arc reactor hurts, and not in any sexy way. He secures lube and condoms with his free hand, marveling at Tony's squirrel-like stashes of sex supplies (this is the fourth one he knows about) and gets himself covered and slicked before he can lose his mind enough to forget about it. 

"Tony…"

"For fuck's sake, just do it!"

Bruce slams into Tony with another roar and doesn't let him up for a long, long time. He slaps Tony and yanks his hair, biting him and rocking the lab bench under them. He can almost see himself from the outside, this hairy, grunting beast fucking Tony into oblivion, jarring louder and louder cries out of him with each thrust.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint decides against going into the lab to see how that crazy shit with the polymers is coming along, making his way back up to his own room instead. Jesus, this is fucking with all of them this badly and it's not even their conditioning. Like he's summoned her, Nat drops out of the vent.

"Hey."

"Is for horses," she says, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. Clint chuckles softly, looking over at her. "Good," she says, lightly touching his face, "I was afraid you'd forgotten how."

"You know it's a heavy thing to take, Tasha. Even for me."

She nods, and lies down beside him. "Steve won't even look at me."

"Don't be too hard on the kid. He hates himself for popping a boner at the idea."

"And you?"

"I don't bother to hate myself for shit like that. It ain't productive."

"But the idea of me being your slave does turn you on?"

"Hell, Nat. You know how hot you are." He squirms a little. "But it's all queasy and wrong. So we're all wandering around feeling bad for you and feeling like perverts and rapists and still kinda horny."

"What a terrible state of affairs." She shifts closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. "What if I said it would be okay if it was you?"

Clint does his best not to whimper. "Wh-what?"

"I trust this team, and it feels so good to let everything go. Like… like the perfume." She says this last shyly, squeezing his hand.

"…Oh." That perfume has provided some truly memorable nights, and every time Natasha comes up from her drugged obedience refreshed and happy. 

Clint shivers, and Natasha sighs and nuzzles his neck. "You see?"

"I do."

They tell the others that night, gathering them into the common room. They all look a bit worn, and Natasha smiles softly, touched at the weight of their concern. She tells them about the perfume, which makes Steve go white and then red, while Thor just looks confused and Bruce and Tony stare with a mixture of horror and scientific curiosity. And then Natasha tells them about how she and Clint sometimes use the stuff and he blushes as Tony leers.

"Oh reeeeally?"

"So… so you're all right with it?" Steve looks the way he does any time Tony tries to explain electrical engineering to him, and blushes badly when Thor takes his hand.

"I confess myself surprised, Natasha."

"Is it really so surprising? Self-control like mine is tiring. I enjoy a rest."

Thor nods, ruminating on this. Tony just smiles, sad and sweet and complicated.

Of course Clint is the first to try it. After all, he has some experience. The first time is simple. He asks, she agrees, and then Natasha is just _down_ , instantly in that wide-eyed and trusting state that usually takes hours of touching and reassurance to get to. Clint shudders, and kisses her softly, ordering her onto her back. She coos and complies, flushing and whining with eagerness when he announces his intentions, and he shudders with the strangeness of it. It's not that Natasha doesn't enjoy letting him fuck her tits, but it's a more removed and controlled kind of thing. She'll just smirk up at him as he heaves and rocks and whimpers, completely undone by merciless softness. Now she mewls and whines, gazing up at him with something like awe in her eyes, pupils completely blown. Clint finds himself slowing down and growling softly to her, telling her what she looks like and how completely he owns her and that he'll take care of her. Natasha whimpers and squirms, panting and softly begging Clint to use her, dipping her chin to lick at the head of his cock.

"Fuck, Tasha…"

"Please, please come for me, sir, I want it, I want it—" She cries out when he does, catching most of it on her face and wailing, bucking and shaking under him.

"…Holy shit." It's not that Natasha can't fake an orgasm, it's just that Clint knows her. This was real. He reaches back with a curious hand to find her soaking wet and it gives him a painful little aftershock because it's too soon to get hard again. Natasha whimpers softly, and Clint kisses her for a long moment before cleaning them both up and whispering, "Rise up," relieved to see her eyes come back into focus, sharp and clear. She grins at him, nestling in against his chest. "Doing good?" Clint murmurs, rubbing her back.

"Yes." She sighs and kisses his neck. "Thank you."

He laughs, a little hysterical. "You're welcome, babydoll."

The others are still skulking a bit, but of course it's Tony who finally corners Clint, half drunk and completely sincere. "Okay, two questions," he says, breathing scotch into Clint's face, calloused hands on his arms. "One: are you even kinda gay, and two: have you and Romanov finally actually tested that whole sexbot thing?"

"Yes and yes. Are you and Banner thinking of branching out?"

"Kinda, you fuckin' sneak. Anyway, I know he wants you and you know how I like to give people presents."

There's something almost sweet about that, and Clint smiles at Tony and then suddenly they're kissing, and it's silky-scratchy and tastes like booze and is pretty much exactly what he thought kissing Tony Stark would be like. He purrs, leaning in and glad they're both in bare feet, because this way they're about the same height and everything lines up nicely.

In the end, Clint guesses he's the same kind of gift as a set of viciously sexy lingerie custom-made for the recipient: rich and rare and enjoyed in equal measure by the giver. And he gets most of his use in bed, of course. He and Tasha have an agreement, which is to get it where they can because there are no guarantees. They always come back to each other, but that's a given.

"Perfect," Bruce is growling in his ear, hands running over and over his arms. Clint just grins at the sheer jock/nerd fetish beauty of the scene, and Tony grins back. He's sitting there in an armchair with a drink, just watching and palming himself through his pants like they have all the time in the world. Clint supposes they do.

"I try. God, you're just cute as hell." And Bruce is, with his crooked glasses and sweet smile.

"I don't try," he says, and Clint laughs, the sound turning into a soft moan as Bruce slides his hands over his chest.

"Sensitive?" Bruce purrs, and Tony chuckles.

"Now you've done it."


	4. Chapter 4

They've all been forewarned and theoretically forearmed, but it's still a shock to actually come in and see Natasha like this. Steve had been afraid pain would be involved, but Clint had assured him that Natasha's role would be one far more about pampering than punishment. Now Steve stands in the doorway like a fool as she comes crawling over gracefully, bright eyes studying him before closing as she arches her back and rubs along his legs, purring.

"N-Natasha?"

She looks up at him again, and mews. Clint chuckles from where he's lounging on the couch. "She's only going to talk in case of emergency, since adorable red tabby kitties don't talk."

"Oh."

"What," Clint says, smirking, "don't you like animals?"

Steve just stammers, and strokes Natasha's hair. It's as soft as it looks, and she rubs her head against his hand, purring. "…Wow."

"Yeah." Clint reaches out lazily and makes a little clicking noise. Wide-eyed and almost shockingly kittenish, Natasha prowls over, letting Clint pet her a few times before catching his thumb in her sharp white teeth, nibbling. He laughs and frees himself, gently scratching her behind one ear, smiling as she melts down to the floor, nuzzling his hand to demand more attention. "God, she's beautiful."

"Y-yeah," Steve whispers, his mouth completely dry. "This is really weird, Clint."

"Mm, I know. But it's hot weird if you just roll with it."

Steve takes a deep breath and sets up camp in an armchair, watching as the others come filtering in. Tony grins at Natasha's greeting, and scoops her into his arms. She mews and lightly bats at his face, much happier to be held than most cats. He mews back, and nuzzles her face. "Christ, you're as cute as you are hot. Here." He settles onto the couch, arranging her on his lap. She cuddles in against his chest, purring as Tony rubs her back. "So whose idea was the cat thing?"

"Hers. We were tossing a few others around when I suggested a puppy. She said she wanted to get to know you guys a bit better before going that far, but that an animal seemed like the right thing. Cat was inevitable after that."

Steve tries to imagine Natasha as a puppy, and blushes badly. Tony grins at him over Natasha's head as she plays with the end of his tie, and of course Tony would come here straight from a meeting. "Tch! Bad kitty." He taps her nose to stop her chewing on the tip, and she looks up at him with huge eyes. Tony kisses her, much more gently than Steve would have expected. And he wouldn't expect him to really be rough, but he does it like Natasha might break. "I forgive you, though," he murmurs, smiling fondly down at her.

"Is the ritual begun?" Thor asks in his indoor voice, opening the door carefully.

"Yeah," Clint tells him, kissing Natasha's shoulder as she crawls over him to investigate Thor. 

Thor lets her smell his hand like he would with a real cat, and scratches her behind the ears, smiling at her obvious enjoyment. "A cat is most appropriate, I think."

Clint chuckles. "We're glad you approve."

It almost feels normal by the time Bruce arrives. Clint has a note from Natasha, written in her right mind and her real handwriting (one of the first safety hatches they had built into the program) telling them to treat her as much as they can like a pet for a while, complete with distracted caresses as they watch a movie.

"So, I take it we're under way?" Bruce asks softly, standing in the doorway like he's not sure he's allowed in.

Clint smiles and reaches out to him. "We are. Come here and pet the kitty."

They can see Bruce shudder from across the room, and he comes over slowly. He crouches and offers Natasha a hand. She sniffs it delicately, then nibbles his little finger and nuzzles up into his palm. Bruce pets the kitty. "God, your hair is so soft, Natasha," He murmurs, and she purrs, rolling onto her back and wiggling happily.

"Why not give her a belly rub?" Tony purrs, and Bruce blushes, running his palm over that silky-soft skin. Natasha purrs and arches, pressing her breasts up into Bruce's touch. He bites his lip, blushing as he kneads her breasts with shaking hands. She just mews happily as Bruce pinches her nipples, wriggling on the rug. Clint catches Steve's eye and smiles at the stunned look on his face as Natasha slides free of Bruce's hands to crawl up Steve's legs and into his lap.

"You've just got to roll with it, Cap."

Steve finds that Clint is right, staring into Natasha's eyes as she pins him into the armchair. he blushes because he knows there's no way he can hide exactly how willing his cock is to just roll with this. Natasha crawls up him and nuzzles his jaw, hard little nipples just brushing his chest and making him whimper.

"N-Natasha, I…"

"Mnyow?"

He laughs breathlessly and kisses her. "You do make a cute kitten, Romanov."

"I bet she'll be an adorable bird," Clint says, eyes full of love. "She said she wants to try that sometime."

"Well, feeding her crackers might be fun," Tony murmurs, watching as Natasha nuzzles and nibbles at Steve's jawline, making him whimper. "Not that this isn't. Anybody else want a drink?"

They do, and he goes off to assemble a tray of his own scotch, of Thor's Asgardian mead, a Coke for Steve (Mexican and made with real sugar), a beer for Clint, Bruce's herbal tea, and after a moment's mischievous thought, a bowl of milk for Natasha.


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha likes milk. She likes milk a great deal, and now doesn't have to worry about looking childish, because she has given herself up completely. She sucks the white sweetness from the bowl, feeling safe and warm with Clint's hands stroking her back and sides, petting her as if she really is a cat, but she wants more. She wriggles her hips in a way she hopes will get her point across, lapping the last of the milk from the bottom of the bowl.

"Done drinking and want to play?" Clint purrs, and she mews, turning to rub her head along his thigh. He chuckles and sets his beer aside, freed hand groping the curve of her ass before parting the lips of her cunt and sliding two callused fingers in. In sober moments Natasha wonders what it's like to be Clint's bow, which has those lethal, loving hands on its body all the time. His beckoning crook over her g-spot is as beautifully automatic as the way he shoots, and right now she doesn't have the brains to think that, and just yowls like she really is a cat in heat, breasts pressed to the carpet as her back arches, knees braced wide apart.

"I wish I had my sketchbook," Steve mutters, and Tony laughs, the sound a little breathless.

"Jesus, kid."

"I do!"

"Stop arguing and start making out," Clint suggests in a friendly sort of way his hand burrows into Natasha and makes her moan and rock against it.

"I'm game if you are, Cap."

"Is that a dare, Stark?"

"It is so a dare," Bruce says, eyes bright over the rim of his cup, "And I want to watch."

"Hear that, Steve? He wants to watch." Tony leers as he crawls over the arm of Steve's chair and into his lap. Steve whines, and then blushes brick red, staring down. "Oh my god, you are so cute. And I'm totally as hard as you are, it's okay. Not as big as you are, though, damn. Hey, Clint, is Natasha any kind of size queen?"

"This girl fisted her once in Leeds and they let me watch. It was amazing. What d'you say, Tasha? Wanna find the biggest cock in the room and fuck it?"

She purrs loudly and nuzzles Clint within an inch of his life. "I'll take that as a yes. And you and Steve still need to make out."

Tony takes Steve's face in both hands and favors him with a devilish smirk before ravishing his mouth, pushing him back in the chair and tongue-fucking him, nails lightly digging into Steve's scalp as Steve moans and clutches weakly at Tony's hips. "Goddamn, that's pretty," Clint murmurs, watching. "I'm a genius."

"Verily, Clint," Thor says from where he has been sitting beside Bruce and just watching the action. Now he shifts and unzips his jeans, freeing his massive cock. The head is a bit different from human, but not by too much, and Natasha whimpers happily at the sight of it. "Who else is in the running to be the Widow's prize?"

Bruce blushes and starts slowly easing out of his pants. "Cap, too!" Tony calls, and Steve whimpers, blushing and squirming under him.

"Not you, Barton?"

"It's the motion of the ocean that matters, Stark."

"You guys are ridiculous," Steve mutters as he wriggles out of his sweatpants.

"God bless America," Tony murmurs, staring down at him. "I think he and Thor fucking match, Clint, check it out." He slides onto the floor and helps Steve get his pants off. Steve tugs his shirt over his head as well, and flings it aside, flushed all over with lust and embarrassment.

"I believe you are right, Tony." Thor sounds curious and happy about this at least, and goes to compare with Steve, shafts touching briefly and making them both shiver. Steve is longer while Thor is thicker, but overall mass is about the same.

"Well, I've talked to a lot of girls and thicker wins in size contests, so… holy good goddamn." Clint is staring at Bruce, who covers up as the others follow Clint's gaze. Two hands aren't enough, though, and Natasha is already on her knees in front of him, pulling them away.

"So, Bruce wins! Way to go, Big Guy. I guess I am prescient, 'cause damn." Natasha mews happily, licking along the side of Bruce's ridiculous cock. Her inner thighs are slick to the knee, and it's a bit of a struggle to get the head into her mouth where she sucks it wetly and makes Bruce tip his head back and groan, lower lip caught between his teeth. "Christ, this is so fucking awesome." Tony kisses Steve again and then bites his neck in parting, escaping his gentle grip. "Hey, Bruce, can I kiss you? You should totally let me kiss you."

"Tony…" Bruce reaches for him. Up close Tony can see green striations in his eyes, and groans, kissing him hungrily and moaning as he kisses back.

"Good thing I bought these magnums," Clint mutters, digging through the bag of supplies stashed under his chair, pulling out the right condom size for Bruce. "We've got different textures, too. Here, kitty. Pick." He gently draws her away from lapping at the head of Bruce's cock, and she meows and nuzzles one, picking it up in her teeth. "You want to put it on him?" She mews again and goes back to Bruce, watching him and Tony kiss for a while longer before rolling the condom onto him, purring.


	6. Chapter 6

Natasha is on her knees, moaning loudly as Bruce carefully, carefully sinks in, panting. "Fuck, Natasha, are you okay?"

"Yes, sir," She breathes, and pushes back on him, panting silently and broken by bliss, eyes rolled back and beautiful mouth hanging open. Bruce whimpers and holds onto her hips, letting her set the pace as he just stays in place and shakes.

"Fuck, I wanna go get a soda can for comparison," Tony mutters, watching the last few inches sink in until Bruce's pubic hair is flush against Natasha's ass, all of them amazed.

Steve asks if she's all right again, hardon not flagging in the least and visibly twitching when she beckons him over, grinding back against Bruce and groaning, every bit of that impossible length swallowed up.

"Fuck me, she's a TARDIS," Tony mutters, and Bruce laughs weakly, bowed forward over Natasha's back. 

"You're such a dork, Tony—oh, _fuck_!"

"Just as lethal as any other muscle in her body," Clint says with a happy leer where he's sprawled out on the couch, idly stroking himself and watching the action. Steve kneels by Natasha's head and then whimpers as she wraps her lips around the head of his cock and sucks him down. Steve can't seem to shut up, stroking Natasha's hair and whispering to her that she's beautiful and perfect. Tony fights the urge to ask if this is how Steve acted getting blown by French hookers because A: it'd be mean, and B: he probably acted just like this, the adorable bastard. For her part, Natasha is fucking dedicated. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks Steve, head rocking back and forth with the rest of her body, Bruce's rhythm inside her setting hers on Steve. Both of them groan, leaning down to cover her back, neck, and shoulders in kisses, only to meet each other halfway. Steve hesitates, but Bruce doesn't, capturing him in a hungry kiss.

Neither of them lasts much longer, and Natasha has come at least three times, each one subsumed into the next and into everything. She's flushed and covered in sweat, and Clint calls a time out to hug her and pet her and give her a whole bottle of water, running tender fingertips around the stretched mouth of her cunt. There are times Natasha doesn't mind a little blood, but Clint politely and firmly disagrees. He's not surprised to find her just fine, since she was so fucking wet when they started. She looks up at him with dark, glassy eyes, sweet and utterly trusting. She looks so well-fucked, but ready for more.

"How do you feel about an airtight, kitten?" He asks her when she has rested enough. Tony and Thor are on the couch with Steve, kissing him half to death and making him let out desperate little mewling sounds. It's good when they kiss each other too, beards meshing dark on gold. Natasha shivers happily and purrs loudly, one dainty hand squeezing Clint's cock and making him shudder. "Okay, then," he breathes, hoping he'll last more than thirty seconds once they get started.

Natasha likes anal, but there's both a size limit and a brevity of acquaintance limit, so Clint mans the back door because he knows she trusts him to do it properly. He crouches behind Natasha and gets Steve to toss him the lube as Natasha goes on all fours in front of him. Clint is clean and Natasha is impervious to most diseases, so he just slicks his fingers and works two into her. She's so fucking hot and tight and he will never fucking get over it, stretching her slow and steady, just the way she likes it. He glances over and sees Steve blushing as he watches Natasha grope her own tits with one hand as Clint's fingers delve deeper. Tony's hands suddenly join hers, and Clint grins. Tony pinches Natasha's nipples and she writhes and mewls, grinding back on Clint's fingers.

"More, kitten?"

She does want more, and mercifully soon Clint figures she's ready for his cock. She whimpers in complaint as he pulls his fingers out, and then moans happily as he eases his cock in. Clint whimpers at the tightness and heat, and Natasha sinks all the way back onto him, biting her lip and mewing softly. She tightens so hard it hurts a little, and Clint whines, blushing to sound so pathetic. Tony grins at him over her shoulder.

"Relax, man. Balls are gonna touch, it's already gay." Clint laughs breathlessly, and watches Tony stretch out on his back on the rug as Steve passes him a condom. He rolls it on and they ease Natasha over him. She purrs as he nuzzles her neck. "Best. Pet. Ever," he murmurs, sliding into her where she's loose and wet from Bruce. She grips them both and they moan in the same lost key. Natasha coos and then looks up as Thor kneels by Tony's head.

"Would you suck me, little cat?"

She nods and purrs, opening her swollen lips to him as Bruce and Steve tangle together on the couch, watching. Steve's eyes are huge, and he's rock hard again, Bruce gently squeezing him as they kiss. Thor stands on his knees, and the swing of his balls is sort of hypnotic as he fucks Natasha's mouth. He's firm and gentle at the same time, rocking all of them a little without choking her, his hands stroking her hair instead of clutching at it.

"…always tells me not to hang on so hard," Clint mutters, groaning as Natasha swivels her hips from side to side.

"It is hard to resist, but a certain… aauuhh… dedication to calm can help a great deal."


	7. Chapter 7

They make sure that Natasha has more orgasms. How many it's hard to be sure, but there are several and that'll do. Clint grits his teeth and moans at the soft slide of Tony's balls against his. He knows he's not going to last much longer, and grinds into just the right spot to make Natasaha come again before he gives in and empties himself into her, clinging to her waist and to Tony's as he rides it out, groaning.

Tony goes next, rocking into Natasha's g-spot and getting her to scream as she comes around them in a devastating flutter that pulls an aftershock out of Clint's soft cock. Tony whimpers breathless curses that sound like prayers as he mumbles them into Natasha's neck. Thor is just hanging out in the breeze, but doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he's glowing. Literally, just a soft, golden glow.

"Sir, am I seeing that?" Natasha asks, sweet and lost.

"Yes, dear one," Thor says, stroking her hair and letting her acclimate to the idea of glowing cock for a moment before drawing her back to her task. She comes again from sucking his cock, and Clint isn't sure if that's a Thor thing or a slavegirl thing, but whichever it is, it's fucking great. And then Thor comes and holy shit, no wonder he's also a fertility god. The stuff gets everywhere, and Natasha does her best to swallow it all, extra dripping from her chin as Thor shudders and roars, hands still gentle on Natasha's head. She pulls off and purrs, taking another little rest while Thor goes and fetches some towels and basin of warm water, cleaning everyone up. He's gentle and thorough, kind to everyone's chafed cocks and Natasha's sore cunt. Clint smiles softly, stroking Natasha's hair.

"Want some catnip, angel?" Clint doesn't actually mean to call her that. It's usually reserved for just the two of them, but it slips out here and feels natural.

Natasha shudders and nods, purring, and Clint digs their vial of the perfume out of the bag, spraying it onto his pulse points the way Natasha does with her Chanel No. 5 and passing it to Tony, who does the same. Natasha takes a deep breath, writhing on the rug like a real cat. The others shudder, each spraying on his own dose.

"Okay, so how does this work?" Tony asks, stroking Natasha's hair, just that touch making her shudder and mewl.

"Well, she obeys the person who smells right. Fucked up, but this is going to be a lot of fun."

It is a lot of fun, and had made Natasha cry good tears after coming down from the first time. Clint shows them now, cuddling her into his arms and rubbing her swollen little clit before murmuring, "Come for me," into her ear. And she does, just like that and hard enough to squirt.

"Oh, fucking wow," Tony says once Natasha has her breath back. "Can I try?"

"Fuck yeah, c'mere."

Tony lies down on Natasha's other side, sucking one nipple and groping the other breast with his free hand, the other busily slicking itself between her legs and working one finger into her ass. They've all seen him at work with delicate machinery before, he works Natasha carefully, two fingers rubbing in just the right spot. Clint can tell, because there's this deep, deep groan that Natasha only makes when that happens.

"Come, baby," Tony says at last, and Natasha does, bucking and shuddering, eyes rolling back in her head. "Fuck, that's amazing." Tony kisses her lax mouth and rolls aside so that Bruce can take his place. Bruce is even more gentle, just rubbing her clit and kissing her neck. He gives his order so quietly that only Natasha hears, obeying without the slightest resistance. It passes through her in a soft, quivering wave, and she giggles softly at the end of it, like she and Bruce share some kind of secret. Maybe they do now.

Thor approaches it like a child with a new game, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples, faking her out a few times and leaving her hanging before saying, "Enough mischief. Come for me." She lets out a loud keen and does. As she's coming down from that one, Clint looks around and realizes that Steve has actually found paper and pencil and has been sketching them, the silly bastard.

"Rogers, you put down that fucking pencil and get over here and give Natasha one more orgasm!"

"Yessir," Steve says meekly, and comes over to stretch out next to Natasha, just petting her for the longest while. She seems half asleep by the time he reaches down to stroke her, incredibly gentle. Steve just plays with her for a while,, and then finally whispers in her ear, blushing. Natasha groans and sobs, bucking and thrashing for a long time before easing down again, a beatific smile on her face. 

Clint kisses her, and then says, "You can be a human if you want, Tasha."

"I do, sir. I have to pee."

They all laugh softly at this, and Clint walks her to the bathroom, filling the massive tub as she uses the toilet. There's room for the whole team in here, and Clint wonders if Tony was planning ahead when he installed the thing. It fills quickly, and he calls the others in, all of them genially naked and leaning on each other with the kind of beautiful physical ease Clint and Natasha have always had.


	8. Chapter 8

The sex may be over, but the scene isn't. Clint is glad he doesn't have to tell the others that, and just sits back and watches as they pamper Natasha. Bruce massages her various aching muscles, and she coos and snuggles into his lap. Thor grins at her, and pets her hair and covers her face in bristly kisses, telling her that she's perfect and sweet and incredibly beautiful. All of this is quite true, and the rest join in accordingly. There's something spiritual about it, all of them in the warm, womblike water together, hands holding and supporting Natasha, knees and shoulders jostling in a friendly circle.

All of them are filthy, so the group bath becomes functional as well as relaxing. They wash their sweet, fucked out and blissful kitten first, of course. Ten hands hold her and bathe her, tender with her tender flesh, never less than seven on her at any given moment. She purrs and coos and actually falls asleep and stays that way, cuddled up in Thor's arms like a child. She looks so small and so young that Steve actually starts to feel bad, like they've done more to her than she wants. Clint sees it happening and floats across to kiss him. "Top drop?"

"Huh?"

"You just look like you feel bad, and you shouldn't."

"I just… we could've gone too far."

Clint smiles. "Steve. She gave me a list of exactly what she consented to with each of us while in her completely rational mind. She wasn't even horny. Well, at the beginning of the list, anyway."

Steve has to laugh softly at that, hugging Clint tightly. "It's just… she's so vulnerable like this."

"Yeah. That's why I recorded the whole thing so she can look it over in her right mind."

"Jesus, Barton, you could've just asked me, I'm sure Jarvis has security footage."

"I will never shit again," Bruce intones, and Tony cackles, nuzzling into Bruce's chest hair.

"Bathroom footage is only kept if someone had an aneurysm on the crapper or an enemy got in that way, don't worry."

"I'll do my best," Bruce murmurs, cuddling Tony as Steve blushes himself half to death at the idea of being recorded.

"I have to keep her safe," Clint says softly, and Steve nods, relaxing a little.

"I know."

That settled, they all wash each other, callused hands exploring and only groping a little, passing soap from hand to hand, Tony and Clint both making cracks about dropping it while Bruce rolls his eyes and tells Steve and Thor that it's incredibly tasteless in context and that he'll explain later.

"I can't help it," Tony says, "I'm just naturally tasteless."

"Me too," Clint adds, sprawled across Tony's lap. "It's a _condition_ , Bruce."

Thor laughs loudly enough to wake Natasha up. She blinks, sleepy and stupid and adorable, and Clint murmurs, "Rise up," in her ear.

_Coming out of the slave state is like rising to the surface of very deep and very warm water. It's gradual, and Natasha feels heavy as she opens her eyes and becomes herself again. She's tired, sore, hungry, and deeply happy._

Clint cooks, he just doesn't share this little talent with people he doesn't deeply care for. So right now it's time to make bacon cheddar potato soup for his team to share. He keeps Natasha beside him, offering her little soothing touches when she wants them and otherwise just staying near as he peels and chops potatoes and crisps the bacon.

Natasha leans on Tony while they eat, and lets the others feed her like a flock of anxious father birds, making sure she eats one big bowl and half of another before they've even finished their first helpings. She drifts off while they make up this shortfall, and Thor tenderly carries her off to Clint's bed, where she can be the little spoon as she sleeps the day off. Clint wraps around her and the others all kiss each of them before tiptoeing out, Thor and Steve hand in hand, Tony with an easy hand wrapped into the front of Bruce's shirt.

They talk about it the next day, but not with Natasha. Natasha is all business as usual that day and the one after it, but finally Steve finds her quietly watching the footage on a tablet, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"…Natasha?" Steve's heart is in his fucking shoes. He knew it. He fucking knew it, they had gone too far and Natasha hadn't liked it and they had failed her and he hasn't wanted to shoot himself since losing Bucky. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She looks up, and wonders of wonders she smiles. "Oh, Steve. Come here." She reaches for him and Steve lets her pull him down onto the couch and into her embrace. "These are good tears."


End file.
